


Best Men, or, Sorry We Fucked In Your Kitchen

by SerenadeStrong (ninja_orange)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Casual Sex, M/M, Selfies, inappropriate use of champagne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-02 12:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11509527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninja_orange/pseuds/SerenadeStrong
Summary: During Yuuri and Viktor's wedding, Christophe finds Phichit in the kitchen





	Best Men, or, Sorry We Fucked In Your Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pageleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/gifts).



> Thank you Plalligator for betaing!

When Yuuri and Viktor finally get married it’s a small family affair in Hasetsu, with the festivities taking place outdoors in the large courtyard of the inn. Christophe is Viktor’s Best Man and Phichit is Yuuri’s. The wedding is beautiful and heartfelt with most of the attendees and both grooms shedding tears. Christophe is willing to do a lot for these two - he even keeps his toast family friendly. After they finish dinner though, he sneaks out of the festivities.

He’s happy for Viktor, really he is. He’s just feeling incredibly superfluous watching Viktor and Yuuri get lost in each others eyes and it’s not a fun feeling. He goes inside and wanders toward the kitchen with no real purpose. The kitchen is small and old fashioned, with a large front counter for serving guests and shelves of differently shaped bowls and plates ready to be pulled out for banquets. At this point the kitchen should be empty of people - dinner had been taken out earlier, and cake wouldn’t be served until after they started the dancing. Chris is expecting nothing but leftover appetizers, sake, and if he’s lucky, more champagne. Something to give him some energy before he goes back into the fray.

Chris finds the leftovers just as he expected, including several bottles of champagne, but to his surprise Chris also finds Phichit, sipping a glass of champagne from his right hand while he holds the bottle in his left. He’s wearing a jaunty seersucker suit with short pants and a white tie, and looks up with the guilty look of someone caught with their hand in the cookie jar when Chris walks in. He relaxes after a beat but doesn’t put either the glass or the bottle down.

“You too?” Chris asks.

Phichit shrugs. “I needed a break,” he says. He holds out the bottle and Chris takes it, finds a clean enough looking glass to pour it into. He pours himself a glass, chugs it, and pours himself a second before he hands the bottle back to Phichit. He can feel the bubbles fizzing in his stomach and the buzz starting to hit as he takes a much more polite sip from this one.

“I’m happy for them,” Chris says defensively, not that Phichit had implied he wasn’t. “It’s just they’re so…”

“They’re so absorbed in each other?” Phichit offers. “They’re so in love it’s disgusting, and you love your friends but they haven’t even detached from each other long enough to say thank you for organizing their wedding?” The two of them had organized both bachelor parties as well as the wedding itself. Chris knows the newlyweds are grateful, but so far they’ve mostly shown it by kissing a lot and saying how they can hardly believe this is happening.

Christophe clinks his glass against Phichit’s. “You understand me,” he says.

From the courtyard they hear the faint strains of the music that was chosen for Yuuri and Viktor’s first dance. 

“Should we go watch?” Christophe asks, tilting his head to the door. 

Phichit glances in that direction but shrugs and sips more champagne. “We saw them choreograph it. And anyway we deserve a break after all the work we put in. They won’t notice where we are for at least another hour.” He smirks a little and leans nonchalantly on the counter next to Christophe, his champagne flute paused at his lips before he takes another sip. “Besides, I bet we could have more fun in here.”

 _Oh_ , Chris thinks. It’s not often someone suggests sex before he can, and he’s surprised to discover he likes it. It warms him in a way he’s not used to, getting attention freely given before he can demand it. 

“Really?” he asks. Not like he’s not used to people wanting to have sex with him, but he doesn’t want to assume anything - if he’d known Phichit was interested in him that way, he’d have had sex with him already. Phichit’s certainly flirty enough, but he’s like that with everyone, especially when there’s a camera in his hand, and Chris didn’t want to assume.

Phichit shrugs, like he’s trying to look more casual than he feels, and looks up at Christophe through his lashes. He’s blushing very faintly pink, either from the champagne, the warm night, or something else Chris doesn’t want to think too hard about, and his eyes are sparkling as he says “Why not? We’ve gotten to know each other so well over the last few months putting this thing together. And,” he takes a swig of champagne straight from the bottle, pulls off with a wet pop. ”I’m curious to know if your reputation is well deserved.”

Christophe smirks. He finishes his champagne and leans away to puts his glass down at a safe distance, feeling Phichit’s eyes on him the whole time. When he turns back he cups Phichit’s face with his hands and holds him steady as he leans down to kiss him, as carefully and competently as Christophe knows how. 

It’s just a brush of lips at first but it quickly turns long and deep as Phichit’s lips part under his. Phichit surges closer and groans into the kiss. His fingers go lax and he drops the bottle with a clatter and a splash. Both of them get wine on their legs and neither of them care, too busy grinding closer. Phichit’s on his tiptoes, hard and hot against Christophe’s thigh and Christophe grabs at his ass, hauling him closer and grinding his own erection against the cut of Phichit’s hips. 

“We should go somewhere private,” Phichit moans into his ear, making no move to pull away.

“Pfft,” Chris scoffs. He turns and hoists Phichit up to sit on the counter, leans in for another kiss, then tilts his head to trail kisses down Phichit’s neck until he gets to his high shirt collar. “No one will be in here until the dancing winds down,” he says. “Besides, nothing says ‘you should’ve said thank you’ like fucking in their kitchen.” He’s got a good hunch that Phichit has an exhibitionist streak, if not a taste for revenge, and he’s gratified when Phichit makes no protest to staying in the kitchen. He just hikes a leg around Chris’s waist to pull him close and rub his hard-on against him. 

It’s hot and close between them, sweat sticking clothes to skin as they rock together. Chris undoes Phichit’s tie and starts on the shirt buttons while he scrapes his teeth across the pulse point on the other man’s neck, hoping that it will bruise into a noticeable hickey before the night’s over. He likes people to know where he’s been. Phichit’s hands fumble at his shirt for a minute, then find their way to Chris’s own tie and buttons. Within a few minutes they’re both stripped to the waist. 

Phichit’s nipples are just at the right height to suck on so Christophe does so, pleased to hear Phichit’s soft little cries of delight when he gets teeth involved again. They perk up in his mouth, first one than the other and Chris keeps his mouth busy as he trails his hands down Phichit’s hot skin to undo his belt. He goes to work on Phichit’s fly next but Phichit gasps “wait, wait,” and still Chris’s hand with one of his own. 

“I don’t have anything on me,” he says. “And I don’t want to ruin Mama Katsuki’s counter.”

Chris frowns. He usually keeps something on him but his wallet ruined the line of his suit so condoms and lube are both in his room. On the other hand, a kitchen is full of useful things and anyone with truly mature sexually experience can work with what he has to hand. “Stay there,” he says. “I’ll find supplies.” 

A rummage around the prep area in the back supplies an odorless cooking oil, several clean tea towels, and another bottle of champagne. Chris also grabs a large cucumber, mostly just to see what Phichit will think of it, though he’s game to try anything if his partner’s interested.

Phichit looks both amused and alarmed by his armload when he gets back to the counter. 

“Really?” he asks pointing at the cucumber. Chris just wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and ignores the way his heart flutters when that makes Phichit giggle disarmingly. 

Chris pops the cork on the champagne and takes a drink from the bottle, then passes it to Phichit. He has a pleasant buzz going, half the alcohol, half the endorphin rush of sex. Phichit gulps some down and Christophe kisses a stray drop from the corner of his mouth when he sets the bottle down. 

They spread the tea towels over the counter and Chris wraps his arms around Phichit to lift him onto them. He lets his hands linger on Phichit’s back, warm, smooth skin under his palms. This close their chests rub together, skin sticking where they’re both sweaty in the summer heat. It refocuses both of them, suddenly reminding them of what they’re working toward, and they barely pull away from each other long enough to breathe while they get their shoes and pants off. 

“Mm, beautiful,” Christophe says when they’re both naked, looking Phichit appreciatively up and down.

“Really?” Phichit asks. He’s not shy at all, leaning back on both arms to leave his chest on display and not making any attempt to shield his slim cock from Chris’s gaze, but he sounds like he’s looking for approval.

“Instagram worthy,” Christophe assures him, moving in close between Phichit’s thighs. Chris runs a finger up the length of Phichit’s cock then gently closes his hand around it, pulling the foreskin down. He holds it, strokes with just his thumb, feeling the pulse of blood under his hand as Phichit’s breath gets heavier and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Still no condoms,” Phichit murmurs after a minute. Christophe gathers the precum beading at the tip of Phichit’s cock on his thumb and spreads it down his length. 

“We’ll get creative,” Christophe replies.

“Not with that,” Phichit says, indicating the cucumber with a tilt of his head.

“Fine,” Chris says, feigning disappointment with an exaggerated pout. Then more seriously he says “I was more thinking fingers, and my mouth on your cock. If you’re into that,” He adds, not wanting to push anything in particular.

“Your mouth on me sounds like the best idea you’ve had so far,” Phichit says, and spreads his legs invitingly.

Chris has to bend down to get Phichit’s cock at mouth level. It’s not the most comfortable position but he’s been in much worse. He spits delicately into his hand first and gives Phichit another stroke, pressing in close to breathe in the warm scent of him. He kisses the base of his cock right about the tangle of dark hair, then licks up to the head to take him into his mouth. Phichit sighs happily and cards a hand through Chris’s hair. Chris glances up at him and smirks, then does something with his tongue that has Phichit’s toes curling. 

“You’re good at that,” Phichit gasps. 

Chris smiles around Phichit’s cock and swallows it down completely, loving the thick weight of it filling his mouth and flexing on his tongue. He bobs his head a few times, then pulls off with a messy lick to the crown of Phichit’s cock that leaves a string of saliva pulling thin between them as he stands up.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand then reaches for the bottle of champagne. 

“I’ve always wanted to try this,” he says, and takes a drink but doesn’t swallow. He read about this once in some magazine or clickbait internet listicle. The bubbles run along his tongue in a pleasant fizz, which if this works will feel even better on Phichit’s cock.

Chris bends down again and immediately realizes the challenge is getting their dick in your mouth without letting the champagne out.

“This is a terrible idea,” Phichit says when he sees Christophe pause, but Chris doesn’t like to stop anything half way and Phichit seems content to let him experiment. Chris noses against Phichit’s cock, tilts it toward himself. He presses his closed lips to its slit in a chaste kiss then tries to get his mouth around it without actually breaking the seal between his lips.

It doesn’t work. He immediately spills champagne down the shaft of Phichit’s cock, making him laugh and lose the rest of his mouthful. He manages to pull off before he chokes as Phichit squeaks at the feel of it dripping between his legs.

“You’re ridiculous!” Phichit says fondly, then makes a face “You’ll have to clean me up now.”

Christophe smirks and laps at his balls.

“I didn’t mean - whatever, don’t let me stop you,” Phichit says, leaning back on his hands and letting Chris get to work. 

Chris hums happily and continues, sucking briefly at Phichit’s balls again before nudging him to lift his knees up so he can reach lower. Phichit props his feet up on Chris’s shoulders as Chris holds his ass cheeks apart to suck wet kisses down his perineum. He can feel Phichit’s legs shaking and his whole body jolts when Chris finally tongues his asshole.

Phichit lets lets out a whispered curse above him as Chris licks indulgently, nudging his tongue inside and teasing the rim. “Did you want anything else?” he asks into Phichit’s skin. He traces a finger feather-light around Phichit’s hole, watching it twitch in needly little pulses when he presses against it.

“We did say mouth _and_ fingers,” Phichit says between panting breaths. 

“I can’t believe this is the one night I don’t have a condom on me,” Chris says, and stands up to grab the oil. He pours a generous amount onto one palm, uses it to coat his fingers and spreads the extra over his own cock. Standing up he’s just at the right height to fuck someone on the counter - he can’t believe he’s missing this opportunity. Neither of them want to risk it though, so he strokes himself as he presses his other palm flat between Phichit’s legs, the heel of his hand against Phichit’s balls while the tip of his first two fingers press easily into his asshole. 

“Good?” he asks. Phichit doesn’t look up from where he’s watching Chris’s hands, but he nods and presses against him, letting Chris’s fingers sink in up to the second knuckle. Chris sighs as he feels the tight heat of it around him, leans closer to Phichit and closes his eyes, imagining that heat around his cock as he pulls a tight fist up and down his own length. Phichit crosses his ankles behind Chris’s back and wraps his arms loosely around his neck, practically hanging from Chris all soft mouth and loose limbs while he’s expertly finger fucked.

Chris presses closer, tucking his his face into the crook of Phichit’s neck. He can see Phichit’s cock jerking against his thigh in time to his thrusts, and it’s a little uncomfortable getting close enough to line their cocks up in his hand but he manages, and it’s worth it for the silky feel of Phichit against him and the strangled gasp he makes as he slides his fingers up and down. He pulls firmly, steadily, keeping himself right on the edge of orgasm while he watches Phichit getting closer and closer, until his hips are twisting trying to get more and his cock is leaking beads of precome. 

“Come with me,” Chris whispers, pressing his fingers deeper and angling them just right. Phichit clenches tight around him and arches desperately against his hand. He tilts his head but doesn’t so much kiss as pant against Chris’s mouth, keening needy and desperate until finally his legs shake around Chris’s waist and his cock pulses hot stripes of come on his chest and over Chris’s fingers. The hot slickness of Phichit’s come running between his fingers and over his cock is enough to send Chris over the edge with him. He bites Phichit’s neck as he comes, right where he’s just starting to show a hickey. 

They wipe up with one of the towels afterward. By the sound of it, the dancing is in full swing. Chris checks the time on his phone as they hastily dress - he’s only been gone about 20 minutes, they won’t have been missed. There’s minimal lingering touches as they pull on dress socks and waistcoats, but they exchange a few knowing looks, and Chris thinks they’ll be seeing each other again sooner rather than later.

When they’re both fully clothed, Chris does Phichit’s tie for him and then turns to return to the party.

“Hold up,” Phichit says. “First—” he pulls out his camera, and poses for a selfie.

[Image: Chris and Phichit, Phichit is smiling at the camera and flashing a peace sign while Chris winks and makes a kissy face next to him. For reasons unknown, Chris is holding a cucumber. What can be seen of the background behind them is a crowded but tidy kitchen]  
**Phichit+chu**  
Behind the scenes at the Katsuki-Nikiforov wedding! #viktuuri #bestmen #thebestpartyisinthekitchen


End file.
